I'm Not Crazy I'm Just A Little unwell
by Green Seal
Summary: A story I wrote sorta based off the song Unwell. It's about a girl whose only friend is a voice in her head because she never knew other children gropwing up and now doesn't always know how to socialize. She soon faces a huge change in her life that may help her heal or damage her even more. I didn't know what to rate it so I just went with T.


Author's note: This is the first story I've published on fanfiction and the first book I'm attempting to write. Sorry the first few chapters are so slow; I'll try and make it more eventful in future chapters. I know it needs a lot of work and constructive criticism is highly appreciated. Please, leave me a comment.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the song _Unwell._

_I'm talking to myself in public  
Dodging glances on the train  
And I know, I know they've all been talking about me  
I can hear them whisper  
And it makes me think there must be something wrong with me  
Out of all the hours thinking  
Somehow I've lost my mind_

A loud beeping disrupts my sleep and forces me to wake up long enough to groggily slam my hand on the alarm clock at my nightstand.

''shut up..'' I murmur before rolling over and hiding under my covers.

''For once would you get up on time, Jamie? You can't miss **another** day of school." My friend says irritably.

I groan and reluctantly roll out of bed.

This morning started like any other. I dragged myself to the mirror and brushed my long, red hair, forcing my bangs to straighten from the tangled mess they had become overnight. It never ceases to amaze and disappoint me how straight my hair becomes after it is combed. I stare at the reflection for a moment. I see the scarce freckles on my cheeks and the vibrant Green eyes staring back at me and wonder what life would be like if I was a different person. It wouldn't hurt to be a little less lanky and not ginger; perhaps I would have a friend that other people could hear if I was different. But I'm not and have stopped trying to be different a long time ago.

My mornings are always so uneventful. I suppose nobody has a very exciting time getting ready for school though. I always figured that everybody does simple tasks like brushing their teeth and eating breakfast in the morning, but I never really had anybody to compare my life to besides my mother who had died last year. To be honest my life didn't change much after she left. Not to say she was a bad mother, she just couldn't be around much with work. She had passed before I had thought to ask her about something as trivial as morning routines. I suppose it doesn't matter though. Gives me something to think about as I get dressed in the simple clothing I own. I almost never wear anything besides basic shorts and T's. I usually don't need anything besides that and maybe a sweater since I live in Tennessee. Not that I could afford anything else. Mom left me enough to live on, but without any to indulge in expensive clothing. Not to mention Getting a job is difficult because nobody wants to hire an antisocial 15 year old.

"The bus is coming." My friend reminded me.

"I know, I know.'' I ran out the door and waited at my stop.

School was same as always. Well, not always. I've only been going since mom died because I used to take all my classes online since I was of school age, it was surprisingly easy to figure out after I was shown a few times. Mother didn't like public schools but I can't pay for internet anymore. Today I learned almost nothing new and went through the same ordeal as every day. I don't have any other friends besides the one in my head, so I would just talk to them. Nobody else can hear her though, so they think I'm completely insane. They think she isn't real, that I've lost my mind. I know she's real though, so I suppose it's worth the torment I get about talking to her.

Things were very different after I got home though. There was a social worker waiting for me. _Shit._ _How did they know? _To the world's knowledge my father had been taking care of me. In reality I've never even met him, but my mother was always too ashamed to tell anybody he left when she was pregnant with me, and I didn't want to live in a home. Since I don't have any close relatives, the lie was easy to maintain.

A very professional looking woman sat at my table, staring at me from across the room. I know why she's here, and I'm not looking forward to it.

"Please, grab a chair Miss Deene." She says in a welcoming tone.

I sit down in front of her, the old wooden table separating us. _How did she get in my house? _

"What brings you here?" I ask her.

"I understand you've been living here by yourself for some time now." She responds.

"No, I live here with my dad, Joseph deene." I lied

"Sweetie, Joseph Deene passed away months ago. I'm so sorry for your loss, but it was brought to our attention that he had been residing in New York for some time before then. Who's been looking after you?"

I was in a state of pure shock. Dead? But how could this be? I never liked my father but I wouldn't wish death upon him. Also, what would happen of me now that they know

"What….." Is all that I can manage to say.

"My father….My father is dead?" I say, dazed.

The Social Worker takes my hand and leads me to a car parked in front of my house.

"It will all be ok." She says gently as we begin to drive away.

I look back at my home, knowing I will never see it again.

"Goodbye." I whisper before we turn a corner and the building disappears from my view.


End file.
